


Swerve

by GoodJanet



Category: Baby Driver (2017)
Genre: Angst, Choking, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Forced Prostitution, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 14:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11404128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: Buddy and Darling have a nasty fight, and Baby's pimp sends Baby over to cheer Buddy up. Buddy then finds out what Baby is forced to do for money on the side.





	Swerve

Baby knocks on Buddy’s apartment door half an hour later. Buddy answers in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. He’s loosely holding a bottle of beer in one hand, and his eyes look red and unfocused, almost like he’s been crying. Buddy sniffs.

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

He didn’t know?

“Um, I was told you…needed me.”

A look of realization dawns on Buddy’s face. He looks annoyed.

“Come in. Shut the door.”

Every instinct in Baby’s body tells him to do the opposite, but he’s nothing if not obedient. He follows the sound of Buddy’s footsteps until he’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen while Buddy opens the fridge and pulls out a fresh bottle.

“So, do you do this often?”

“Do what?”

Buddy pops the cap off with a bottle opener from the counter.

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

Baby nods.

“Fuck.”

Buddy takes a long drink, and Baby takes in his surroundings. It’s a nice place. Probably a safe house of sorts. It’s sparsely furnished, but it looks comfortable. Darling is nowhere in sight.

“You want something to drink?”

“I’m driving,” Baby says.

“Right,” Buddy says, like the thought had just occurred to him. He leans heavily on his kitchen table, facing Baby. “You don’t have to stay, you know. When I called and said I wanted to blow off some steam, I had no idea they’d be sending you.”

Baby sighs in relief. That was a least a little comforting, knowing Buddy didn’t see him as just another toy. But there would be hell to pay if he just left.

“I—I want to stay.”

Buddy stands up straight in mild surprise. He takes another drink and surveys Baby’s face. He walks in close, until there’s only a few inches separating them. Buddy kind of reeks up close. Baby turns his face away when it looks like Buddy’s going to try to kiss him.

“Bullshit,” Buddy says.

Buddy turns away from him and meanders into the adjacent living room. He drops down onto his couch, leans back, and lets his legs spread open. Again, Baby isn’t sure what else to do but follow. This time, he sits down next to Buddy. He puts a hand on Buddy’s knee without looking at him.

“Baby,” Buddy says, disbelieving.

Baby faces him.

“I have to,” Baby says, begging Buddy with his eyes to understand the situation he’s found himself in. "I need the money. I--"

Buddy’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Is someone _making_ you do this, Baby?”

There’s a serious edge to his voice that Baby picks up on. A tone that would almost be caring and sweet if Baby hadn’t known what the man was capable of.

“He--It's worse if you don't have one. A pimp, I mean. To protect you, and..."

“Shit.”

He leans forward with his hands on his knees, and Baby moves his hand away. There’s a moment of tension that grows and grows until Buddy is jumping up from his seat and rushing into his bedroom. Baby stands too, heart racing. Buddy returns, now half-dressed, and carrying a shotgun. Baby’s eyes go wide, and Buddy stalks towards the hallway towards the front door.

“Buddy, stop!” Baby cries, jumping in front of him. “Don’t!”

He grabs Buddy’s arm, but Buddy pulls away with ease.

“Gonna teach that fucker a lesson,” Buddy growls under his breath, moving closer and closer to the door.

Baby gets in his way again. He presses his back against the door, arms out in front of him. Buddy stops, and Baby can tell from the haze of anger that clouds his eyes that he’s only going to listen for a few seconds.

“Buddy, please! You can’t. If he kills you first, he’ll kill me too. He’ll kill _Darling_ , Buddy.”

“He hurts you.”

“Yes.”

“And he wants me to hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“And if I don’t, then he’s going to hurt you anyway.”

“Yes.”

Buddy’s whole body suddenly seems to droop. His shoulders fall, and the corded muscles in his arms disappear when he lets his gun hang towards the floor.

Baby steps away from the front door and carefully removes the shotgun from Buddy’s hand. He props it up against the wall and leads Buddy back to the living room. Wordlessly, Buddy sits down on the couch again, and Baby stands directly in front of him. Buddy looks up.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Baby.”

“I know.”

Baby carefully climbs onto Buddy’s lap, his knees bracketing Buddy’s. Baby tucks his head into the crook of Buddy’s beck, and Buddy’s hands tentatively come up to rub his back.

Baby kisses Buddy’s neck, moving from the base to his jawline to his cheek. He’s centimeters from Buddy’s lips when Buddy flinches away.

“Baby, I can’t do this.”

“It’s okay.”

Baby starts circling his hips, and Buddy moans softly. The hands rubbing his back clench wads of his tee shirt. Baby kisses his chin, hands gently coming up to cup the back of Buddy’s head.

“It’s okay,” Baby repeats. “Just tell me what you like, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“Baby.”

What would Buddy like? Someone he could control.

“Come on, daddy, tell me,” Buddy says.

Buddy rapidly shakes his head.

“No. God no. Not that.”

Baby tries again. Someone who would willingly submit to him.

“You want to tie me up?”

Buddy’s cheeks go red, but he doesn’t answer, so Baby guesses he must be close to the truth. Baby stops circling his hips and opts for a faster forward and backward motion. It earns him a heady moan in his ear that triggers a shiver down his spine. Baby licks his lips. Someone who _wanted_ to willingly submit to him. Baby thinks he’s got it this time.

“You want to choke me.”

Buddy closes his eyes and grips Baby’s hips in his hands, forcing him to stop moving against his growing erection.

“No.”

Baby reaches down and takes one of Buddy’s hands in his. Buddy’s eyes reopen. He watches Baby as he kisses his palm and each fingertip. He runs his lips over the webbing between pointer finger and thumb. It seems to relax him a little, which was what Baby had been hoping for. Baby lifts his arm up towards him before fitting Buddy’s fingers around the column of his throat.

“It’s okay, Buddy.”

Before he can change his mind, Buddy is upon him, pushing him back onto the couch cushions before settling in between Baby’s thighs. Baby can feel how hard Buddy is against his groin, even through his jeans and Buddy’s boxers. Buddy gives him an openmouthed kiss, and it feels like an apology.

“Fuck, I don’t even have any lube,” Buddy says against his lips.

“I already—”

But Buddy cuts him off with his mouth once more and makes quick work of Baby’s pants. Baby’s not wearing any underwear. Baby reaches up to pull Buddy’s off his hips. His cock juts out in the limited space between them while Baby’s lays limp against his thigh. 

Buddy stares into his eyes. Baby nods.

When Buddy bottoms out, Baby wails, and Buddy kisses him again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Buddy chants as his hips move and thrust his dick deep inside him every time.

Baby doesn’t have his music on, and his apology creates a beat of its own. Buddy hasn’t removed his hand from Baby’s neck, but he also hasn’t used it either.

“Do it. Do it, Buddy.”

Buddy looks away as his fingers tighten increasingly tighter with each second. It doesn’t hurt at first, but then Buddy must be getting close because he can’t seem to stop moaning now. 

“Baby?” Buddy asks. “I can’t—I have to—”

“ _Do it._

Feeling disgusted with himself, Buddy brings his free hand up from where he was gripping the arm of the couch above Baby’s head and places it on Baby’s neck until both heels of his palms are crushing his windpipe.

What had once been just a little uncomfortable was now becoming painful. Baby thrashes, neck and back arching as he tries to get more oxygen to his brain. He wants to scream Buddy’s name, but his vision is swimming.

“Almost, almost,” Buddy grits.

Baby takes a single, rattling breath, and Buddy crushes his throat until he almost blacks out, his whole body seizing up when—

“ _Ah—ahhh—fuck_.”

—Buddy comes.

Buddy lets go when he does, come leaking out at his cock pumps inside him a few sporadic times. Buddy slumps against his him until Baby starts hacking and wheezing, trying to get as much air into his lungs as possible. Buddy quickly backs off him. He sits at the other end of the couch in silence until Baby’s breathing finally returns to normal.

“Are you okay?” Buddy asks.

Baby nods. His throat feels like he’s swallowed a cactus. It was a good thing he wasn’t much of a talker to begin with. Buddy just looks at him, the naked-from-the waist-down boy that he had just ruined in his living room. Buddy swallows.

“Did I hurt you?”

Baby shakes his head. He feels Buddy’s come start leaking out of his ass, and he squirms.

“Shower’s through the bedroom,” Buddy says.

Baby stands, but he stumbles; head rush. Buddy jumps up and catches his elbow.

“Fuck. Fuck, let me help you.”

Baby is grateful, and he leans into Buddy’s strong body. He hugs the kid close to him, one hand cupping the back of his head, the other patting his shoulder. 

The moment passes.

“Come on,” Buddy says. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”


End file.
